This Is What It Means To Love The Unloved

I knew who you were.

You had a story that you were dying to tell but no one was willing to listen.

From the first day we spoke, you had an identity that was clear to you and me. Whether I tried to deny it or not, it didn’t matter.  It just kept staring at my face.

That identity was the danger of being unloved.

An uncertain and unpredictable feeling that kept me from blinking my eyes every time I was with you.  That same precarious feeling was what kept me glued to you. If I ever was true to myself, I would admit that danger was one of my strongest attractions which drew me to a man. And you had it in no small measure.


You were not born incapable of love. You had to learn to shut out any affection that came your way. You showed no emotion not because you couldn’t but because you wanted to go unnoticed.

You were not new to me. For some unexplainable reason, I had met your type, more times than I can remember. It was as though I had an invincible force field pulling them in my direction.

For a long time now, I had become accustomed to dinning and winning with the unloved. They often had similar stories of their better experiences and cruel heartbreaks. They all had to cry themselves to sleep more often than never.

In a world where others were lucky to find the one, they were lucky enough if they ever found anyone.


When I met you, I concluded you were one of the many unhappy souls, but you were different from all of them. You were not just pitiful, you were broken. Either consciously or not, I became your defendant in the court of love.

I appeared every day before the judge with as many evidence as I could find. With each appearance more and more unyielding before the jury that sat to decide on your case.

My job was simple. I had to change your mind.  I had to convince everyone that justice had to be served. I couldn’t understand why a person with such a warm face and such a generous heart will deny himself the opportunity to be loved.

I rushed into your pain and made it my comfort when everybody rushed out. You reminded me thatthe ones who have been hurt need to be loved more not to be judged. They needed our kindness more, not our disapproval.

As Mother Theresa expressively said, “It’s impossible to judge someone and love them at the same time.”

You made me come to terms with the ugliest parts of me because you were not ashamed to show me who you were.

You were a slow poison, silently crawling through my veins. Defining an infinite path under my skin. I knew how to stop you but I decided not to.


I, being who I was, all roped in with sympathy made every effort to offer myself on a platter of gold but you wouldn’t let me.

You never had to woo any girl before. You were never the man for it but that didn’t make you less than yourself. You were a cub, growing into a lion!

When the time came to prove yourself, you went for the kill. You were not one to accept anything less.

I understood that to truly change your life, I couldn’t just love you. I was to teach you how to love yourself and love another.

I learnt that to truly love you, I had to give you what you had no way of repaying me. You know nothing of love. I had to go the hard way to teach you. It was hard but in the end, it was worth it!